


Till death (and further beyond)

by Fruitbird15



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Caduceus protecting his husbands soul thats it thats the fic, Future Fic, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, The differences in life expectancy make me very sad, Uk'Atoa, some horror elements, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:01:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23817340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fruitbird15/pseuds/Fruitbird15
Summary: Of course Uk'atoa would never let Fjord go so easily. Of course he would come for him, in the end.A newly widowed Caduceus is all that stands between him and his goal.His vows were to the death, after all.
Relationships: Caduceus Clay/Fjord
Comments: 7
Kudos: 73





	Till death (and further beyond)

Rags.

Clean water.

Salt.

Coins.

Caduceus hummed a soft funeral song as he laid out the tools of the undertakers trade, each item placed with care and precision. He had done this so often, in the cool dark of the temple interior. So many people laid out by his hands.

This one was important though.

This was his husband, after all. 

He'd thought it would be harder, seeing Fjord laid out on the stone table. Perhaps it was because he'd cried out all his pain hours ago when he was still alive, sobbing into Fjord's lap as stiff, arthritic fingers stroked his hair. Maybe because there was nothing weighing on him, no secret or declaration that had never been said. He'd said everything in his heart as he held Fjord close, until there'd been no words left between either of them and he'd closed those beautiful golden eyes with a sigh.

Mostly perhaps it was the teachings of the Wildmother that comforted him, that this was a natural and beautiful part of things, that new life could only rise from decay. Instead of aching grief, he only felt warm love squeeze his heart.

“You still look just as handsome as when I first met you, you know.” he said softly, beginning the careful process of laying out. 

_(“Why do we talk to them when we clean them, mother? They're dead, aren't they?”_

_“Sometimes they take a little bit to truly move on. Some linger. It's comforting, to know they aren't just a piece of meat on a table. Plus it's only polite.”)_

“What was that term I heard Jester use once? Silver...fox? I think that was it. You only got better looking with time.” He paused and ran a hand gently through Fjords white hair. 

Laying out could be tedious and unpleasant, but he always found a comfort in the familiarity of the steps.

“I've got an excellent place for you, of course. Right next to where we put Beau. A wonderful view of the river. I sent out the message, of course, after you passed on. Essek will start teleporting them in tomorrow. They're getting too old to travel the usual way. Jester seemed well. Wearing her age like a queen. Not sure where Yasha is, but what else is new?” He laughed quietly. “Her feet never did touch the earth much, that one. She'll come, though. I'm sure of it. Caleb is going with Essek, hopefully. He's very frail these days. I'm already thinking of a good place for him, I feel it won't be long. And Veth is coming, though she might be a little late. She has a big family to wrangle with. All those grandchildren. Oops, and one great-grandchild. All the old crowd. It will be good to see them again, though it's always a little awkward, hmm? They keep aging, and I stay the same. Won't be long now till all of them are resting with us-”

He carried on as he finished his task, washing him down with water and herbs, folding his arms across his chest and adjusting his clean white robe. When he was done, Fjord looked almost like he was sleeping. As a final touch, he placed two fresh coppers over the eyes and sprinkled a handful of salt over his body.

“There. Almost look better than you did those last few days.” He reached under the table and dragged out an old chest, taking out a handful of long white candles. Outside, the sun was beginning to set, and the most important part of the rite was beginning. With his tinderbox, he lit a candle and ran the flame over the base of the others, slightly melting the wax and allowing him to stick them to the table around Fjord. The light was important.

Finally, he pressed a gentle kiss to his husbands cold forehead.

“Don't fret now. I'll stay with you tonight.”

_(“Why do you have to stay up to watch them, father?”_

_“To protect them. Their souls are still tethered somewhat. Usually takes until sunrise for them to find the path to the Raven Queens arms. We watch over them till then.”_

_“Protect them from what?”_

_“...Darker things.”)_

He drew up his chair and settled down, reaching into the bag at his feet and taking out his knitting. This was the vital part, just his presence, there and awake. He could not sleep tonight. Rest could come later. But the body had to be guarded till sunrise. He'd done this since he was fifteen. By now it was second nature.

As the darkness crept in he reached into his bag again and drew out his shawl, a wedding gift from Essek. Black as night, thin as a shadow and warm as summer time, a lacy edge of pink lichen had already sprung up. Drawing it around himself against the autumn chill, he settled down again. He talked as he knit, reminiscing about old adventures, laughing as old memories popped up, still bright and warm. 

He thought back on his time with Fjord, and found it well spent. He knew this would happen, knew that he would be young even as Fjord aged. Firbolgs lived long lives. But it was better, wasn't it? To have known that love and have those memories to comfort him, than to live alone, dwelling for centuries on what-ifs and maybes. As the night wore on, Fjord made the occasional sound as his body cooled . Caduceus never found those noises scary. It was the same thing as an empty house creaking as it settled.

The cold grew deeper and he tightened his shawl. 

It didn't help. 

Something was off. Lowering his knitting, he looked around the room. Midnight was approaching, the Grove now still in the witching hour, and there was nothing but darkness outside the circle. It was colder now, an unnatural chill. Something was wrong. Deeply wrong.

“Who's there?”

_**CONSUME.** _

A pit opened in his chest as he felt those words slither across his mind like something diseased. In the darkness, golden eyes split open.

_**MINE.** _

“No! No, he's not yours! He hasn't been yours for decades! Leave this place! Melora will strike you down!”

But would she? This was his job, his role. To stand as sentinel between his charge and whatever darkness might try and chase them through to the next life. Here, right now, on the border between the worlds of life and death, Fjord was uniquely vulnerable. This was his job. This was the price his family paid for their power.

_**CONSUME.** _

“Begone from here, serpent! His soul is forfeit to you!” A thought occurred. This beast only understood in terms of possession, so perhaps...

He held up his wrist, the woven wedding band still bound tight. He'd never taken it off since his handfasting day.

“His soul is mine! You've feasted on enough drowning sailors in your life, this one is lost to you! He's mine!”

_**IRRELEVANT.** _

“Then I'll fight you!”

_**WEAK.** _

Uk'otoa lashed out and-

_(When he was a fawn he'd stepped on an adder once. His memories were blurry. He remembered only faintly being half dragged, half carried by a sibling. The gentle warmth of his fathers magic. But mostly he remembered the shock, the icy cold feeling on the venom spreading up his leg as fast as a heartbeat, as sudden as a blow. The numbness. The sinking , creeping dread of the invader infiltrating his body and him helpless in its path-_

-He staggered, maintaining his feet with an effort. The lash of anger and hate had left his ears ringing. Thanking Melora with every fiber of his being he'd thought to bring his staff, he snatched it up from behind his chair, entering a battle stance.

“You think you can take on a Clay, serpent? Here, in my home ground? There isn't an inch of this place I don't know, I've felt its power since I was a fawn! Strike again, adder! Show your fangs!”

He was prepared for it now, knew how to relax his mind to the psychic lash. He had to be like the reeds, bending to the force of the storm, even as the mighty oak fell. He could feel Uk'otoa's anger as his attack passed him by.

“Leave now, viper of the sea. And perhaps She may be merciful.”

_**PUNISH.** _

He barely kept his grip on his staff as he saw Fjord turn his head, coins falling off his eyes with a clink.

“I never loved you.” he croaked. “A sham. All of it.”

Caduceus snorted, clearing his mind and shaking off the illusion. Fjord was where he had been, the coins still in place.

“Did you sincerely think that would work? After all those decades? Did you think I could even _consider_ he never loved me?”

Fjord reached out a hand, withered and shaking with age.

“It hurt, Caduceus. Everything hurt. Why did you not help? Why did I have to suffer?”

He shook his head. Once again, an illusion.

“I kept the pain from him those last few months. I know for a certainty he died comfortable.”

“You stole the sea from me...”

That one stung. He knew how much Fjord loved the ocean, had wrestled with the thought of taking him away from it for a long time. But Fjord had made up his mind. Home was where Caduceus was.

“That was his choice to make, and he made it willingly! Enough of your games, monster!”

_**...PROMISE...** _

And suddenly there was no body on the table, but a clump of seaweed, twitching and shuddering. It peeled back and there he was, young and vibrant and alive, face smooth and unlined, hair deep black, reaching out strong arms for him.

“Let him, Caddy. Just step back, and we can be together again. A fresh start. Don't you want that? I love you so much...”

He would be ashamed, later, of the thoughts that rose unbidden from the deepest parts of him. The desire to say yes, to drop to his knees and beg for his husband back, to hold him, to love him, to defy Her natural order for him.

But Fjord's eyes were blank and lifeless, just another illusion, snapping him back to attention. 

And rage.

“How DARE you use his love against me?! How dare you twist something pure? I will tear your eyes from your coils unless you leave. Him. Be!”

He slammed his staff down on the stone floor, a spiral of divine energy twisting out from the site of impact. The smell of mushrooms and leaf mold filled the space. Uk'otoa hissed in fury.

_**DESTROY.** _

And there was a slithering from the dark. Snakes. Not the slow, black scaled adders he carefully skirted or the green grass snakes that led private, shy little lives among the gravestones. These were sea snakes, bright as toxic berries, hissing as they glided out of the shadows, beady black eyes ignoring Caduceus as they moved towards their target.

Fjord.

Some instinct, bone deep, told him if they reached him Fjord would be lost, his soul dragged from the warmth of Melora and the careful guiding on the Raven Queen, pulled down deep into an icy void. 

No.

He would not allow that.

He raised his staff and let out a _roar_ , a sound like the cry of an elk and the bellow of a bull, a sound bigger than he was. A reminder that in his veins flowed the blood of giants.

He slammed the butt of the staff down on the snake, crushing it. Almost immediately it dissolved into thick green slime. But there was no time to dwell on that. More came from the shadows, all around, homing in on Fjord's body. 

Caduceus fought. He fought with magic, sacred flames sending light into the darkness. He fought with strength, smashing with his staff and stomping down with sharp hooves, crushing the oncoming snakes to pieces. 

And he fought with love, willing himself to hold on despite the fatigue, because to lose this battle would be to lose Fjord to the dark.

Snakes poured from the shadows, and Caduceus let the rage take him, embrace him. This was not the cold fire of revenge, but the heat and light of passion. He gave into it willingly. Green slime painted the floor.

Violence was natural after all.

Holding his staff aloft in both hands, he let out another bugling scream. There was a buzzing sound as beetles erupted from his staff, filling the room.

Blight.

He'd sworn since that day on the Ball-eater he'd never use it again. But there was no other choice. Around him, the snakes withered and died as the swarm ate away at them from the inside. 

And they kept coming.

Time became a blur. Green slime streaked his clothes, his face, his hair. Uk'otoa rumbled his hate and malice. His muscles burned with exhaustion.

And still he fought. 

As the ring of snakes closed in, ever tighter, he fought.

As the candles burned down, he fought. 

And as the shadows themselves seemed to coil out, reaching for Fjord's body, he fought, because to stop was unthinkable.

Despair began to well up in him. There was no end to the rustling tide of scales, it seemed. He was so tired, breath wheezing in his lungs, throat a pipe of agony from screaming defiance. The light of the candles was the barest flicker now.

“Please...please, don't let me lose him. I've served you faithfully my whole life, let me have this one thing...give me strength, Melora...please...”

And through the grey pall of early morning, there was light. The slow, gentle rising of the sun.

A sudden stillness fell over the temple. A sense of...departure. 

As Uk'otoa bellowed in rage, Caduceus let out a sob of deep relief. Fjord was gone. His soul had made it, found the path to safety. Even now, the Raven Queen guided him on the way to the next world. Away from shifting coils in the deep.

And the snakes slowly turned their heads towards him. The adrenaline had died away as he felt Fjord leave. Now he could barely lift his staff. Legs shaking and ears flat, he could only watch helplessly as the snakes advanced, fangs now dripping with venom.

_Melora...my lady...help me..._

Warm winds suddenly howled to life, battering the temple like a summer storm. The crawling snakes were swept away like leaves as the shadows of Uk'otoa clung desperately to the stone.

_“Caduceus. Child. You have done your duty faithfully, as you and your family swore to do. Now, I shall do mine. You are protected, my disciple. And I am proud._

The Wildmothers voice was soft and soothing, even as the winds shrieked, peeling the Serpents darkness away from the stone piece by piece, until a final despairing hiss was swept away in the storm.

The winds dropped. The air calmed. In the distance, the birds began their morning chorus. The Grove settled, as if nothing had happened. As sunlight shone into the temple, the slime left by the snakes evaporated into nothingness.

Caduceus felt the Mothers touch, a faint kiss on his sweat damp forehead. Then she too was gone. Slowly, he fell to his knees, drained of everything he had to give. Before him on the table, Fjord's body lay still, untouched and undefiled. The Mother's natural order was kept once more.

He had a lot to do. He had a funeral to arrange. He had guests to prepare for. But none of that seemed to matter now, as he lay his head on Fjord's still chest and wept with exhaustion. And gratitude. 

And love.


End file.
